At the ranch, a guide requires them to build fires, cook food, and build a make shift shelter, all in the course of an hour. In the three years of me doing this field trip, my babies have always succeeded, without any help from any adults. They just do it. It makes me so proud to see these little 12 and 13 year olds emerge into leaders. It's also a bittersweet reminder, they won't be little for much longer.
As a 7th grade teacher, I'd say the best part is that I get my students right at the peak of their childhood. The moment right before they make that jump into adolescence. The most torturous part is watching them jump.
When I taught in the high school, they were already gone. They were who they were, and they weren't going to change, because you're just another authority figure pressuring them to do this and do that and YOU DON'T KNOW ME! The problem is, I did know them, and all I could do was constantly try to bang at the walls and say, "let me in." In middle school, the walls aren't quite there yet, and there are at least little cracks and windows, so you can peak in, talk, and relate.
The torture begins when you start to see where it's time to let them go. The cracks and windows start to close, and all you can do is pray that you made a difference somehow. Pray that when they get to high school, some of your words stuck with them and will eventually help other teachers break down barriers.
It's hard to let them go. It may be a major fault of mine that I love these kids far too fiercely. I can't even begin to imagine the aching love I will have for my own kids when that day finally comes. For right now I'm just going to love my students anyway, and let go as much as I can when they finally do decide to make that jump, and pray some of my words will help them along the way.
No comments:
Post a Comment